3537 




THE LEGEND OF LOVE 



IN PREPARATION 
The Old, Old Story ; Only Differently Treated 



The Legend of hove 



By 

Howard V, Sutherland 

Author of "Idylls of Greece" 
"The Woman M^ho Could" 



New York 

Desmond FitzGerald^ Inc. 

1911 






Copyright 1911 

By Desmond FitzGerald, Inc. 

All Rights Reserved 



(g)CI.A303275 



To 
THE PIG 

Whose eyes were shadow'd haunts of rest. 
Whose hair outgloom'd the Night; whose breast 
Was white as whey. 




THE LEGEND OF LOVE 



Once upon a time, in the happy days 
when the harmonies of wind and wave 
were heard above the grinding of the 
wheels of life; when the flowers turned 
upward their faces, expectant of the 
kisses of the night-angels ; and when 
the birds sang to the 3"ouths and maid- 
ens such songs as are never heard to- 
day, there lived a youth whose name 
was Yverdel. 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

This youth was the only child of a 
great prince and warrior, Cholef de 
Coeur d'Or, whose dominions were sit- 
uated in a now long-forgotten corner of 
the Old World. 

The castle in which he resided was 
a huge pile as awe-inspiring as the 
massy rock that upheld it ; a castle be- 
neath whose windows the clouds drifted, 
and upon whose dizzy turrets the far- 
seeing eagles rested. Despite its seem- 
ingly impregnable position, this castle 
was surrounded by a deep moat, hol- 
lowed from the very rock, and filled at 
all times with water from a spring whose 
source was protected within the gloomi- 
est vault of the castle itself. Only the 
strongest bowman was able to shoot an 
arrow over the moat, which could be 
crossed by the inhabitants of the castle 
by a tremendous drawbridge, responding 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

slowly to the movement of huge and 
clanking chains. 

Why the castle was so strongly forti- 
fied no one knew, for Cholef de Coeur 
d'Or's nearest neighbor was a certain 
King Ba, and he lived fully fifty miles 
away. This King Ba, it must be said, 
was a powerful and tyrannical ruler 
who had castles with moats and draw- 
bridges of his own. His name, however, 
was seldom mentioned in polite society; 
for, besides being heartily disliked by 
rich and poor for his tyranny, he had 
the unsavory reputation of being a 
magician. He was, moreover, the owner 
of the Flaming Topaz of the Smaragds. 

To dabble in the black arts was ac- 
counted a great sin in those days ; and to 
own the Flaming Topaz of the Sma- 
ragds was enough to arouse the hostil- 
ity, and awaken the envy, of all the 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

knights of Cliristendoni. In a little 
while you shall be told why. Had there 
lived a king powerful enough to pick a 
quarrel with him, King Ba might have 
been seriously inconvenienced ; as it was 
his belted brothers left him severely alone, 
and he, being somewhat cynical, felt not 
a whit the worse for their behavior. 

The chronicles of the time relate that 
when Cholef de Coeur d'Or and the 
wicked King Ba were entering upon 
manhood they were quite friendly. To- 
gether they made an excursion to the 
great-granddaughter of the Witch of 
Lut, a fortune-teller and personage of 
no small repute in her day, who lived 
in Persia. It took the young men 
many, many months to reach her cave 
in the Kordufeb Desert, and many of 
their retainers perished by the way ; but 
at last they found her, and finally asked 
4» 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

her how they could best become wise and 
famous men. 

For many minutes the Witch made 
no reply. Her shaggy eyebrows 
twitched convulsively ; her underlip 
hung almost to her breast, disclosing 
a row of yellow teeth from which the 
gums had long ago receded ; her gnarled 
and taloned hands moved waveringly in 
the air ; and her gray eyes, over which 
grayer shrouds were beginning to 
gather, seemed to pierce the very air 
that trembled above the desert. Pres- 
ently her hands fell into her lap, her 
eyebrows ceased twitching, her hideous 
lip resumed its natural place and she 
spoke, and her voice was like the hiss 
of a venomous serpent before it 
strikes. 

While the two young men watched 
her in fear and trembling, she told them 
5 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

she had in her possession a book which 
contained the latest secrets about 
necromancy, astrology, palmistry, and 
faith-healing, together with a full ex- 
planation of the number Four, by 
which any one would be able to gain a 
perfect understanding of everything 
on, above, and below the earth, and 
which would also reveal to its possessor 
the whereabouts of the Flaming Topaz 
of the Smaragds. This jewel, she went 
on to say, gave to its wearer control 
over the elements and the powers of 
darkness ; over the fairies and elves of 
woods, and groves, and fields ; of mead- 
ows and hills and caves ; of hearths, 
and homes, and seas, and rivers. Upon 
its surface, as upon that of the famous 
Cup of Jamshyd, was portrayed what- 
ever the owner wished to behold. It 
was, indeed, a wonderful jewel, and 
6 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

no less marvellous than the coveted 
book. 

But these things, she said, shaking 
her head, were not to be acquired for 
nothing. Oh, no! He who would own 
the book, and then the Flaming Topaz 
of the Smaragds, must do something 
which, as yet, no one had been willing 
to do. Even Schmring, the three-eyed 
king of the Groogloobees, who walked 
backwards and took their sustenance 
through holes in their arm-pits, had re- 
fused to acquire the book at its stipu- 
lated price. Tonsk, Lord of the Urals, 
had returned home without it, and so 
had Pthiptho, whose subjects occupied 
the plains between Mjur and Nardjibul. 
With evident pleasure the Witch mum- 
bled these names to herself, forgetting 
the young men who stood before her; 
but presently she rose to her feet and, 

7 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

leaning heavily on her staff, told them 
the precious volume would be given only 
to him who was willing to part with his 
own soul and that of his firstborn! 
The former was to be claimed after 
death, the latter only during the life 
of the child. When the owner of the 
unique volume died, his soul would be 
borne away to eternal torments ; the 
soul of the child, on the other hand, 
would be released by death forever and 
forever. 

" The child shall be soulless," she 
muttered. " The child shall have no 
soul." 

But even in those days children were 
never counted until they were hatched, 
and so King Ba thought the whole thing 
very ridiculous, and burst out laugh- 
ing. 

Now Cholef de Coeur d'Or, who was 

8 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

a most worthy and valiant young man, 
shuddered as the Witch turned on him 
her baleful gaze; he vowed he would 
sooner trust to fate and his own right 
arm, or in the possibility of making a 
rich marriage, than buy knowledge and 
power at such a fearful price. But his 
companion. King Ba, laughed boast- 
fully, and demanded the book at once, 
saying he was willing to agree to the 
terms if in the meanwhile he could not 
think out a scheme by which the con- 
tract might be broken. Smiling grimly, 
the Witch hobbled into her cave, whence 
she presently issued bearing in her lean 
arms a thick quarto volume with uncut 
edges and a superior binding ; and after 
having made King Ba sign the agree- 
ment in red and blue blood, she handed 
it over to him, and bade the youths 
depart. 

9 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

The chronicles further state that on 
the homeward journey Cholef de Coeur 
d'Or offered to carry the book for his 
friend. The retainer who vouched for 
this says that King Ba winked his left 
eye and said nothing, but the book was 
never out of his possession. He carried 
it by day and slept on it each night, 
and Cholef de Cceur d'Or never so much 
as peeped inside its covers. It is, more- 
over, presumed that the incident caused 
a coolness between the two young men, 
a coolness which lasted even until they 
married and had children. And it is 
further surmised that the coolness be- 
came eventually a dislike, and the dis- 
like akin to hatred; and it was only a 
wholesome fear of each other's power 
that kept one from attacking the other. 

King Ba called his firstborn, a girl, 
Eidole, because she was made to be wor- 
10 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

shipped. He had possessed himself of 
the Flaming Topaz of the Smaragds, 
and now lived with his daughter in abso- 
lute seclusion, fearful lest they met with 
a fatal accident, when the powers of 
darkness would demand of him his own 
soul in exchange for that of his beauti- 
ful child. 

When my story opens, Yverdel, the 
son of Cholef de Coeur d'Or, was a youth 
of twenty summers. His mother, who 
had died shortly after his birth, was a 
lovely woman, and from her he had in- 
herited his perfect beauty, sweetness of 
disposition, and nobility of character. 
For youths were indeed noble in those 
days. They were trained amid strong- 
thewed warriors and gray-haired min- 
strels ; they learned the arts of war, of 
the chase, of music, and of song. They 
were taught to be respectful to their 
11 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

elders, courteous to their equals, and 
considerate of those beneath them in 
station. Of young ladies thej knew but 
little ; the only woman who entered their 
lives was the Madonna, and that is why 
they remained true to their ladies when 
they became men. 

In early boyhood, after the few hours 
devoted to the perusal of missals were 
over, Yverdel was allowed to do just as 
he pleased. There being no other chil- 
dren of his age in the castle, it was 
his custom to sit and dream in the little 
oratory, where everything was so 
hushed that one could almost hear the 
whispering of the angels as they stood 
by the leaded windows or lingered be- 
side the marble altar ; or he would wan- 
der out into the great fir forests, where 
he would lie on the scented, brown car- 
pet, watching the glinting webs that 
12 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

hung from bough to bough and dream- 
ing the dreams of boyhood. Thus in 
fancy he was led away into the secret 
paths of fairyland ; or he would peer 
into the depths of a motionless pool, 
and, Narcissus-like, growing sad at the 
reflection of his own sweet beauty, 
would grasp at it, and wonder why it 
always eluded him. Then he would rove 
again into the shadows of the woods to 
where the doves had their nests, and 
would sing to them of his growing dis- 
content and ask them why it was. But 
the doves, who had gone through it all 
that very Spring, only sighed and said 
nothing. The male dove nestled per- 
haps a little closer to its mate ; but 
Yverdel could not see that — so, of 
course, he was none the wiser. 

When the summer was over, the en- 
tire forest was covered with snow ; but 
13 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

the boy loved it then all the more. For 
in those days the elves and other forest 
folk held high festivals in winter-time. 
At midnight they danced around the 
tallest fir-tree, and fortunate indeed was 
the man or woman who, without 
disturbing their revels, could watch 
them. Never as yet had Yverdel seen 
them ; but the oldest crone in the castle 
told a tale of how a poor peasant, who 
had lost his way in the blinding snow, 
was found dead beneath a fir-tree, with 
a heap of cones piled on top of him to 
keep his body from the teeth of the 
hungry wolves. In each of his cold, 
white hands lay a snowdrop. And this, 
said the trembling crone, was a proof 
that the elves had found him — for any 
one else would have folded his hands 
upon his breast and placed a wooden 
cross therein. 

U 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

Thus it was that Yverdel passed the 
years of his boyhood, among the trees 
and the singing birds, with the fairies, 
or beside the silent waters. As the 
flowers open to the sun, so his heart 
opened naturally to beauty. But as he 
grew older, he began to want something 
more. Not that he did not believe as 
of yore in the flowers and the birds, or 
that they no longer appealed to him ; 
but something seemed to be wanting — 
one link to make the chain of his life 
complete. And as the birds would not, 
or could not tell him what it was, he 
determined to find elsewhere the answer 
to his heart's questioning. 

(O, Beloved, why is it that the song- 
birds, God's humble choristers, may not 
reveal to us the things the heart yearns 
to know, and which might make us 
happy? Could they but tell us — for, 
15 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

surely, the song-birds know! — the se- 
crets they see inscribed on the snow- 
white pages of the great Book of Life, 
which lies open at the portal of heaven, 
how much pain could be spared our 
quivering hearts ; how many murmurs 
would become anthems of praise and 
happiness, and swell the praise-waves 
that lave the threshold of the Holy of 
Holies!) 

One evening, when Yverdel was sit- 
ting near the log fire in the great feast- 
hall of the castle, listening to the me- 
lodious strains of a white-haired, blind 
harpist, he became very unhappy. 
Presently the touching music drew tears 
to his eyes, and he shyly approached the 
player and told him of his sorrow, ask- 
ing why no one could give him consola- 
tion. The old man laid aside his harp, 
and, groping for the lad, drew the 

16 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

golden head upon the folds of his white 
robe. There he pressed him closely 
for a while, until the scalding tears 
ceased flowing, and then he said : " My 
little Prince, beneath the branches of 
an elm within the silent Gardens of the 
Dead there once grew a shy wild pansy. 
Within the Gardens all was very, very 
beautiful, but very, very still. Every 
day the little flower would look up to 
the great Sun, pleading that he, for 
sweet pity's sake, would stay a while 
and play. But the haughty Sun gave 
no answer — only passed on. 

" And when with night came the 
Moon, the pansy felt sure that one with 
so pale and sad a face would have pity 
in her heart ; so it cried to her to tarry a 
while on her journey, and play. But 
the Moon said nothing — only passed on. 

" The giddy Stars would not even 

17 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

look at the little griever, but followed 
the path of their mistress ; and so the 
pansy was left alone to grieve beneath 
the silent elm. 

" But one evening, grown weary with 
ministering to the unhappy, there wan- 
dered into those silence-haunted gardens 
the loving and immortal Gardener. 
Being tired, and somewhat sad, he 
happened to sit beneath the elm, 
and, looking down, saw at His 
feet the tear-stained face of the 
pansy, wistful even in sleep. His 
eyes grew soft with compassion, and 
presently He, too, passed on. But 
when the pansy awoke next morning, 
beside it was a bright-faced daisy, peep- 
ing expectantly from the fragrant soil. 
Happy now and content, the two flow- 
ers told each other their dreams, laugh- 
ing at the rage of the Winds, and car- 
18 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

ing nothing for the proud Sun, the 
frigid Moon, or the frivolous Stars. 
Day by day they became dearer and 
fairer to eacli other, and, enjoying to 
the full every hour of life, awaited with- 
out fear the return of the Gardener to 
transplant them to a happier and 
brighter land." 

The boy looked into the calm old 
face above him, and gravely asked how 
the daisy could possibly help the pansy 
in its sori'ow, and who was the Immortal 
Gardener, and what the story had to do 
with his own life? The old man, telling 
him to think it over, took up his harp 
and played a very sweet air. And soon 
the meaning dawned upon the boy, for 
he kissed the harpist on his lidded eyes, 
then laughed happily and ran away. 



19 



Le Diablon was the name of the castle 
wherein resided the vricked King Ba 
with his soulless daughter, the Princess 
Eidole. 

It was, indeed, a grewsome-looking 
place, a menace in granite ; and trem- 
bling merchants, knights and bearded 
pilgrims on their way to the Holy Land, 
though wearied by the da^^'s journey, 
preferring night in the forest to night- 
mare within its walls, passed on with 
an imprecation and speedily left it be- 
hind. Within the castle there were no 
white servants, King Ba mistrusting 
them, one and all, and having secured 
the services of well-trained negro mutes 
to attend to his wants and those of his 
beautiful daughter. 

The King spent all day and the 
20 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

greater part of the night in his labora- 
tory, where, with face protected by a 
crystal mask and hands encased in 
gauntlets of steel, he toiled to discover 
the secret of the essence of the soul. 
It was a matter of great importance 
to him, for only by so doing could he 
hope to escape the clutches of Satan, 
when the latter demanded of him his 
soul, which, as you will remember, was 
to take place in the solemn hour of his 
death. 

And morn after morn, noon after 
noon, and night after night, the Prin- 
cess Eidole sat motionless in her cham- 
ber, hearing only the ticking of the 
death-watch within the wall, and the 
gnawing of the rats beneath the oaken 
floor. Sometimes the bloated things 
came out and crawled over her tiny 
feet. Yet she heeded them not ; for 
21 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

morn after inorn, noon after noon, and 
night after night, she was thinking, 
thinking, thinking — thinking of some- 
thing she knew she should possess, and 
yet had never known. Motionless she 
sat in the gloom of her guarded cham- 
ber, dressed in a gown as gray as a 
dusty spider's web, her hands folded in 
her lap, her gaze seeming to burn 
through the floor with its terrible and 
never moderating intensity. 

Yet she saw nothing, heard nothing, 
and knew nothing ; and certainly knew 
nothing of that which she was seek- 
ing. 

And while the Princess Eidole sat in 
her chamber, wondering what it was 
that had never been hers, her father 
was groaning and cursing over his 
fruitless efforts to counterfeit the soul 
he so soon might lose. He was too busy 
22 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

to even talk to his daughter. He 
thought only of how time was flying and 
how hopeless it seemed to elude his fate. 
He no longer found pleasure in reading 
his wonderful book, and he no longer 
gazed on the surface of the marvellous 
Topaz of the Smaragds. And thus 
they lived in Le Diablon, day after day, 
noon after noon, and night after night, 
among the gnawing rats and the negro 
mutes, the spiders and the ever-ticking 
death-watch. 

Now, King Ba was a very avaricious 
man; and often, when resting from his 
labors in the laboratory, he had envied 
the good fortune of his neighbor, Cholef 
de Coeur d'Or, whose lands were more 
fruitful and valuable than his own. 
After much thought and deliberation, 
and afraid to attack him outright, he 
conceived the idea of wedding his daugh- 
23 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

ter to the young Prince Yverdel. This 
he imagined, would bring him one step 
nearer his desire, and upon a befitting 
occasion he hoped to put Cholef de Coeur 
d'Or out of the way, and then play the 
part of benevolent guardian to the un- 
suspecting children. 

In the pleasure this project afforded 
him, King Ba even forgot his other dis- 
appointments ; but one afternoon, while 
he was drinking deeply from flagons of 
Rhenish and Burgundy, who should ap- 
pear before him, as if out of the very 
air, but the great-granddaughter of the 
Witch of Lut ! Without even apologiz- 
ing for shocking the King's already un- 
steady nerves, she horrified him with the 
menace of her shrivelled and taloned 
hands, and hissingly told him the Prin- 
cess Eidole must ever remain single, 
otheiTvise the compact would be broken 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

and her soul would be returned to her 
before the stipulated time. 

" And what about mine ? " asked the 
King, hiding his satisfaction at this 
remarkable news, and endeavoring to 
look unconcerned. 

But the Witch only grinned and 
cawed at him, still weaving his fate 
about him with her terrible old hands. 
For many minutes she did this, making 
no reply to his question; and then, 
pushing her hideous lower lip into the 
hole that contained her yellow teeth, she 
suddenly disappeared, shocking the air 
with a noise like a ghostly jackal's 
laughter. 

" The marriage must take place at 
once ! " said the King, and hurriedly 
emptied his flagons. " She shall have 
every advantage. And when I've saved 
her soul I'll cheat the Devil of his due 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

and save my own. A fig for the Witch 
of Lut!" 

Without telling his daughter his 
plans, he threw open the castle to all 
comers. He engaged new servants with 
white faces and soiled linen, and treated 
the Princess Eidole to a course of eti- 
quette, French, and Delsarte; so that 
after three months she became quite pre- 
sentable, and was every inch a lady. 



36 



\. 



One glorious Spring morning, at the 
delicious hour when the birds cease their 
matins, a trumpeter, dressed in flesh- 
ings and a robe of salmon and green 
decorated with the signs of the Zodiac, 
and borne by a richly caparisoned Bar- 
bary steed, approached the gates of the 
castle of Cholef de Coeur d'Or, demand- 
ing the reception in fitting style of 
King Ba and his daughter, the Prin- 
cess Eidole. 

Once only did the silvery notes of his 
trumpet quiver on the crisp air; before 
it was necessary to repeat the sum- 
mons the great drawbridge was lowered, 
and a gallantly attired page ap- 
proached the outrider, bearing mes- 
sages of welcome from Cholef de Coeur 
d'Or to the King and his entire retinue. 
27 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

Inside the castle all was hurry and 
bustle. The gray-haired retainers be- 
gan to think of the old times, when the 
arrival of a sprinkling of kings and 
princesses was a weekly occurrence ; the 
seneschal saw to it that fresh reeds 
were strewed in all the rooms ; the cel- 
larmen tapped their huge casks signifi- 
cantly, and the cooks took a keener in- 
terest than usual in the welfare of their 
pigs and poultry. The blind harpist 
tuned anew his harp, and tried to re- 
member snatches of quaint melodies 
which haunted his memory like half-for- 
gotten dreams. Yverdel tried to im- 
agine what the Princess Eidole looked 
like; and his father wondered what the 
deuce had entered King Ba's head to 
make him pay so unexpected a 
call. 

Wondering, however, did no good; 
28 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

and, before long, the neighing of horses 
and jingling of silver bells announced 
the arrival in the courtyard of his fair 
guest and her illustrious father. 

With a courtly smile and bow, Cholef 
de Coeur d'Or helped Eidole from her 
horse, and then, having exchanged 
greetings with the King, escorted them 
to the great hall, whence the serving- 
women led the Princess to the apart- 
ments allotted her. 

Yverdel, who all this time had been 
standing behind a pillar, feasting his 
eyes on the girl, ran to the blind harp- 
ist and described to him the scene. 

" What is the Princess like, my 
Prince.? " the old man inquired. 

" She is beautiful," answered the boy, 
his heart beating wildly. 

" Very beautiful ? " asked the harp- 
ist. 

29 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

The boy nodded his head slowly. 
" Very, very beautiful," he continued, 
as though he had not heard the ques- 
tion. " Her face is as pale and calm as 
the moon on a night of frost; and 
masses of soft, black hair fall down to 
her hidden knees. Once, as she looked 
past me, I saw into her eyes, and it 
seemed as though I were looking into 
eternity — but it was an eternity with 
nothing beyond. Her mouth is a well 
of love ; but the waters thereof may be 
bitter, for she seldom speaks, and never, 
never smiles ; and from her person there 
emanates a scarcely perceptible yet 
alluring perfume, like the odor of the 
first cool breath of Death as it creeps 
slowly from out the gray-hued East. 
She must be about my age," continued 
the youth, thoughtfully, and with a 
sigh ; " but she is much wiser. For she 
80 



N. 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

looks like one who has known great 
sorrow; like one who has wandered 
through the Valley of Eternal Silences 
to the shores of the Sea of Life, and 
there has seen the souls of little chil- 
dren embark hopefully upon the out- 
flowing tide to return aged and 
embittered with the flood. And her 
knowledge has made her sad." 

" Do you like her, my little Prince.'* " 
asked the old man, sorrowfully. 

And the boy answered, very sweetly: 

" I love her ! " 

* *- * «- * 

While the Princess Eidole was ar- 
ranging her costume. King Ba and 
Cholef de Coeur d'Or stepped into a re- 
tired chamber, and held a hurried con- 
versation. The King candidly told the 
Prince it was his fond hope that their 
two children might fall in love with one 
31 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

another and inherit their combined pos- 
sessions. 

Cholef de Coeur d'Or looked rather 
dubious at the idea of marrying his only 
son to a girl who had no education what- 
soever, who liadn't even a soul she might 
call her own, and whose armorial bear- 
ings were as blotted over as the manu- 
scripts of his hired poet ; but, being 
of a generous disposition, and resolving 
not to annoy his guest with his mis- 
givings, said tlic idea was worthy the 
King's philanthropic nature, and finally 
gave to it his full consent. 

The affair, they both decided, should 
be allowed to work itself out ; but, in 
his heart of hearts, the Prince wondered 
if the King had not already taken his 
daughter into his confidence and given 
her some useful pointers. 



32 



%. 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

Before sitting down to the great feast 
that night, Cholef de Coeur d'Or led his 
son to the Princess Eidole, and pre- 
sented him to her. Aloof from the oth- 
ers, with her mysterious eyes gazing 
stonily into the shadows, she stood be- 
neath a flaring torch, seemingly uncon- 
scious of what was going on around. 
She was, indeed, thinking of other 
things than banquets ; she was thinking 
of heavy spiders and scurrying rats, of 
the dusty webs that tapestried her 
gloomy chamber in Le Diablon. And 
she was thinking of her soul. She was 
dressed in a robe of pale j^ellow. 
Around her neck hung a magnificent to- 
paz, the famous Topaz of the Smaragds, 
and upon her brow lay a circlet of yellow 
daffodils. Yverdel kissed the hand she 
extended to him, and later, when they 
entered the dining hall, stood by her 
33 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

chair till she languidly bade him sit 
beside her. 

Heavily laden was the table in front 
of them. At one end was a huge boar's 
head, with bristles and tusks complete ; 
at the other was a haunch of venison 
large enough to satisfy the wants of a 
score of hungry beggars. Scattered 
about lay every kind of bird, fish, and 
vegetable imaginable, and enormous 
pasties ; and beside every dish stood 
silver flagons of ruby and amber-colored 
wines and sparkling ales. Three and 
forty people sat down to eat, and all 
were too busy discussing the viands to 
talk or look about them— all save 
two. 

One of these was love-sick Yverdel 
who watched the Princess eat, and 
seemed to derive enough nourishment 
out of that enjoyment to satisfy his 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

own appetite; the other was the jester, 
who, after a while, nudged the elbow of 
the Prince, and bade him watch them. 
Cholef de CcEur d'Or sighed, and whis- 
pered his fool that his son must be cau- 
tioned to keep away from her in the fu- 
ture. The fool replied that it would be 
as wise to caution the nutmeg to keep 
away from the grater, or the fish from 
out the frying pan. So the fool proved 
his wisdom. 

By eight o'clock the meal was over. 
Rising from the table, all the company, 
as was the custom in the good old days 
of yore, made the sign of the Cross — 
all save King Ba and the Princess 
Eidole. So Yverdel made the holy sign 
twice, once for himself and once for 
her; and the jester, who saw him do it, 
winked deliberately five times and then 
laughed immoderately. 
36 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

When all who had n mind to were 
seated around the burning logs, petting 
the hounds, dozing, or listening to the 
strains of the harp, Yverdel threw him- 
self on a bearskin beside the Princess 
and asked her why she had not made the 
sign of the Cross after the meal. Then 
the Princess considered him thought- 
fully with her fathomless eyes, and, 
with a half-stifled yawn, answered: 

" Because we do not believe in it. 
We are descended, as you may have 
heard, from the thief who repented at 
the eleventh hour at Golgotha. It is 
the blackest stain upon our escutcheon, 
and I have never forgiven him, although, 
of course, he must have suffered con- 
siderable agony at the time. One of 
his teeth was extracted after his death, 
and has been in the possession of our 
family ever since. My father curses 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

by it whenever he is in a particularly 
bad mood. Some day I will show it to 
you." 

Then Yverdel grew very sad, re- 
membering all the strange tales he had 
heard about King Ba, who, like the 
Stadings, worshipped a black cat, and 
looked upon Satan as a most maltreated 
deity. The boy could not understand 
how so beautiful a girl could believe in 
so sinful a doctrine ; but when he asked 
her if she had never been told about the 
gentle Christ, she only shook her head 
and stared at the burning logs. Yver- 
del w^as now kneeling beside her, and 
presently he took from around his neck 
a silver chain, to which was attached a 
little crucifix of carved black wood, and 
asked her to wear it for his sake. This, 
at first, the Princess would not do ; but, 
seeing he took her refusal so much to 

S7 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

heart, she finally accepted the gift and 
promised to wear it occasionally. 

" Papa does not like me to accept 
gifts from young men unless they are 
of value," she murmured. " But, I can 
persuade him this is antique, you 
know." 

When he heard this, the heart of the 
boy became very tender and happy. 
His father and King Ba were discussing 
the weather and other impersonal 
topics, and so he leaned to her, and 
kissed her cheek, and, taking one of her 
hands in his, whispered in her ear : " I 
love you, Eidole ! " 

But the Princess stared at the fire, 
and said nothing. She had forgotten 
all about him. 

" You are so beautiful, Eidole ! " the 
boy continued. " You are more beauti- 
ful than the modest star that bids us 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

await the blessed Evening, more beauti- 
ful than the gentle Dusk and the con- 
secrated Night. You are more beauti- 
ful than the Madonna in the silent 
oratory where I whisper prayer." 

But the Princess still stared at the 
fire, and said nothing. 

" You are the thing I have wanted," 
he went on, and his voice was as tender 
as a flute. " In the forest there is only 
peace, in the meadows only sunshine 
and fragrance ; when I wander in the 
woods I hear only the songs of the birds. 
Others prize these things, but I have 
been lonely everywhere. Nothing has 
seemed perfect, because I wanted you." 

But the Princess still stared at the 
fire, and said nothing. 

Then the boy touched her cheek again 
with his lips, looking at her wonder- 
ingly. " Eidole ! Eidole ! " he whispered. 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

passionately. " Don't you hear me? 
I love you ! I love you ! " 

From the fire she slowly turned her 
gaze, and, chilling his ardor with the 
impenetrable mystery of her eyes, she 
answered : " My mirror tells me that I 
am beautiful. Can you tell me nothing 
new? " 

And the boy whispered again, and yet 
again : " I love you, Eidole ! I love you ! ' ' 

But the Princess only shook her 
head. " I cannot understand you, lit- 
tle Prince," she said. " I know what 
it is to eat, and what it is to drink, and 
what it is to fall asleep. But what it is 
to love I really do not know." 

Yverdel leaned still closer to the girl. 
" You must know," he whispered. " To 
love is " 

" Yes, yes," she replied, wearily. 
" Now I remember. To love is Aimer," 
40 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

then she repeated mechanically: 
" J^aime, tu aimes, il aime; nous " 

" No, no ! " cried the boy, who knew 
nothing whatever of her latter-day edu- 
cation. " That is only one of those 
horrid French verbs. The love I want 
to tell you about " 

" I studied so hard," she interrupted. 
" It really hurt my neck." 

But Yverdel took her hand in his. 
" When one is in love," he began, 
" one " 

" Should never eat peas with a 
knife," said the Princess, remembering 
page three hundred and fifty-six of her 
book on etiquette. 

"Oh, Eidole!" cried the boy. 
" What is the matter with you ? When 
one is in love one eats nothing. Love 
is a beautiful pain. Love is a golden 

flame. When one loves " 

41 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

" One should cross one's feet so as 
to display the ankles," she interrupted, 
mechanically. " In Delsarte one learns 
all about it. Please go on talking, lit- 
tle Prince. Your voice reminds me of 
the plaintive aspen leaves. You should 
cultivate it." 

Then the poor boy repeated to her 
the words, and tried to explain them; 
but the Princess only shook her head, 
and said she did not understand what 
he meant. 

Yverdel then told her the tale of the 
pansy and the daisy in the Garden of 
the Dead, and how the Immortal Gar- 
dener came to take them heavenward, 
where they could blossom eternally. 
Then he said that they, too, were hu- 
man flowers, whose perfect happiness 
was dependent upon the other's being; 
and that if she would only love him. 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

and trust the One whose figure was 
depicted on the Cross, she would earn 
the right to immortality and happiness 
when her eyes were closed to the beauty 
of the world. 

" It is a pretty story," said the 
Princess, wearily. " You should write 
it on a vellum scroll, and I will illumi- 
nate the initial letters." 

But as her soul was still in the pos- 
session of the powers of darkness, she 
could understand nothing of love or 
immortality; and the boy could only 
hold her hand in his, vainly seeking to 
give her light, and whispering again 
and again : " I love you, Eidole ! Won't 
you love me too .'' " 

Long before the fire burned low, the 
Princess retired. When she was all 
alone, she laid the little crucifix upon 
her snow-white breast. 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

" I wonder what he was talking 
about?" she murmured. "Love! It 
is probably a disease to which only very 
young men are subject. But this," she 
continued, examining the little crucifix, 
" is certainly very curious. I wonder 
if they make them of gold? " And 
then, after looking at it for a few min- 
utes, she consulted her mirror and went 

to bed. 

***** 

But Yverdel was too unhappy to 
sleep. While his father and King Ba 
continued to discuss the safe topic of 
the weather, waxing eloquent over the 
merits of their respective barometers, 
he crossed the huge drawbridge and 
wandered into the forest. After walking 
for quite a while, bewailing his fate and 
that of the girl he loved, he heard in 
the distance a strange noise, as of 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

some one chanting a dirge. Proceeding 
cautiously beneath the trees, and step- 
ping with the hghtness of a fawn, he 
suddenly found himself near a moonlit 
clearing, in the center of which, dressed 
in a spangled gown and with a steeple- 
shaped red hat on her head, was a hid- 
eous old woman. She was hobbling 
around in a circle, waving with one 
hand an ebony rod, and crying out 
in a cracked and querulous voice: 
" Memel! memel! Estafa, Kabakosh! " 

What this meant, Yverdel did not 
know ; but, being of an inquiring turn 
of mind, and unafraid, he hid himself 
behind a tree and closely watched the 
proceedings. Presently a loud rum- 
bling was heard, and, when at last 
everything was quiet again, he beheld, 
emerging from a hole in the ground 
along with heavy fumes, a horrid, un- 
46 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

substantial Thing, which swayed about 
in the chill night air as though impa- 
tient to return to a more congenial 
temperature. Then, ceasing her invoca- 
tion, the old woman made three passes 
with her hands and hissed like an angry 
snake, whereupon the Thing muttered: 

" What desirest thou of me, O 
Sorceress ? " 

" I desire to know," answered the 
hag, clawing now at her bristled chin, 
" how much longer the soul of the Prin- 
cess Eidole shall remain in your pos- 
session? " 

" Before the moon looks twice again 
upon this selfsame spot her soul will be 
in the possession of the powers of 
light," the Thing answered, swaying to 
and fro. " Already the angels have pre- 
pared for her an orb to inhabit, to 
which shall later be gathered the soul of 

46 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

her boy lover — the fair Prince Yverdel." 

" What more canst thou tell nie, O 
Spirit ? " questioned the inquisitive old 
hag. 

" That I have seen it written," an- 
swered the Thing, " that thou and the 
false King Ba shall be demanded of 
the Earth Spirits within that same 
period. Ye are doomed, and shall be 
delivered unto the tormentors of souls, 
to suffer throughout eternity for j'our 
wickedness." 

Without another word, the Thing 
then coiled itself slowly into the hole, 
which closed silently ; and the old hag, 
after stamping above it till midnight, 
hanged herself in despair to the limb 
of an inviting oak. 

" That is enough for one night," said 
Yverdel, and thoughtfully wandered 
home. 

47 



The next morning, Yverdel went at the 
accustomed hour into the little oratory 
to pray. Through the panes of stained 
glass the sun shone softly, and the 
youth soon found himself thinking more 
about the Princess Eidole than of his 
prayers. By degrees the sunbeams ca- 
ressed the marble statue of the Blessed 
Virgin, and the attention of the boy 
was drawn to it immediately, for he 
stretched out his hands to it, as though 
in supplication, and cried : 

" O sweet and gentle Mother ! Thou 
who hast ever watched over me and 
heard my murmurings, canst thou not 
turn the heart of my loved one to me? 
Mother of the motherless ! wilt thou not 
pity me for the sake of thy Son, whose 
wondrous Transfiguration atoned for 
48 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

His awful sorrow? O Beloved of the 
weary and the unbeloved ! thou knowest 
love's joy and love's deep anguish ; leave 
me not helpless, but lead her to me, and 
save us both forever." 

Slowly^ the head of the boy drooped 
upon his arm, and presently into the 
sunlight stepped the Blessed Virgin, 
lifting her hands above his form to bless 
him, the while in womanly sweetness her 
voice echoed through the hushed chapel. 

" Dreamer," she said, " be not un- 
happy. The one thou lovest shall some 
day be given to thee, and shall be to 
thee the realization of thy fond ideal. 
Opportunity must first be given her to 
learn the depth of divine mercy and of 
thy love. In the meantime thou must 
tarry upon the earth, until thy soul, 
purified through thy yearning, burns 
through thy body's clay, and wings its 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

flight heavenward to bathe amid the 
glorious brilh'ance of the Eternal. Be 
undismayed though the shadows of life 
fall about thee ; for, from the Porch of 
Paradise, as the stars watch the sleep- 
ing world, thy loved one shall watch 
thee, distinguishing thee from all men. 
And there, until the Angel takes thee 
hence, she will await thee; the dew 
shall remind thee of her happy tears, 
and the roses' fragrance of her awak- 
ened and undying love." 

The voice ceased, and when the boy 
awoke he doubted he had dreamed; for 
the sun no longer warmed the silent ora- 
tory, and the Blessed Virgin still stood 
within her niche. Yverdel crept softly 
to her and looked questioningly into her 
face ; but it was very calm, and he 
hardly knew if the expression thereon 
was one of happiness or sorrow. So 
50 I 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

he hastily finished his prayers, and then 
went out to seek the Princess. 

In the courtyard of the castle he 
found the retainers assembled. They 
were laughing together, smacking each 
other on the back, and giving every evi- 
dence of being in a particularly pleas- 
ant mood. 

Inquiring of a favorite man-at-arms 
the cause of this hilarity, the boy was 
told that a woodcutter had come across 
a hideous old woman, suspended from a 
branch of an oak ; and that the body, 
out of deference to the wish of King 
Ba, was to be burned in the forest that 
midnight. 

Telling nobody of what he had seen, 
not even his friend the old harpist, 
Yverdel left the merrymakers and tried 
to find Princess Eidole. But when he 
knocked at the door of her apartment, 

61 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

and asked to be admitted, she said she 
was combing her hair and would see him 
when they sat down to dinner. When 
he knocked again, and called to her, she 
would not even reply. 

All alone he spent the day, and in the 
evening was told that the Princess was 
still combing her hair and would eat in 
her own chamber. And so it was with a 
heavy heart that he sat down to the 
table, and listened to King Ba tell 
ghost tales of Le Diablon, hoping there- 
by to impress his host and his other 
companions. As the flagons began to 
circulate. King Ba became more talka- 
tive than ever. First he told how it 
was written, in a certain Book of Wis- 
dom, that the soul of a suicide could 
not escape until the body wherein it 
was imprisoned was burned on a pyre 
of oak boughs ; then, seeing the expect- 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

ant faces around him, he told them 
how he had settled a long-outstanding 
grudge against his own brother, who, 
after an unhappy love-aifair, had died 
by his own hand, by placing the body 
in a leaden sarcophagus and commit- 
ting it to the custody of the sea, thus 
depriving him of his only chance of im- 
mortality. When he had told this tale, 
King Ba laughed so heartily that he 
had the hiccoughs, and for a time was 
in danger of dying in his chair; but 
the man next to him squeezed him so 
hard below his ribs that he recovered. 
In return for this attention he was 
about to tell what he did to cure his 
wife's aversion to the fiddle, when a 
servant held aside the tapestries at the 
end of the banqueting hall, saying it 
was nearly midnight, and that every- 
thing was ready for the burning. 
53 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

Rising noisily from the table, out 
they trooped — King Ba and Cholef de 
Coeur d'Or, the jester, and the ever- 
hungry poet, fifteen or so wandering 
friars and a sprinkling of migratory 
hermits, the pages and the father con- 
fessor, the captain of the guard and 
his men-at-arms, the head cook and the 
butler, and all the menials and varlets, 
and underlings, and bottle-washers, 
and men-servants and maid-servants, 
who in those days constituted the house- 
hold of a feudal baron. Ahead of them 
went the band, each man with a dif- 
ferent instrument, and each instrument 
with an opinion of its own which it 
endeavored to express as loudly as pos- 
sible. And behind this uproar, Yver- 
del followed with lagging feet and a 
heart that seemed heavier than lead. 

Thus the procession noisily disap- 
54 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

peared into the gloom of the forest, 
leaving only one old waiting-woman, the 
blind harpist, and the Princess Eidole 
in charge of the silent castle. 

In due time the revellers arrived at 
their destination. A huge pile of wood 
confronted them, and upon it could be 
seen the pitifully lean body of a hideous 
old woman. When Yverdel saw her, he 
knew immediately who it was ; but he 
said nothing. King Ba, on the other 
hand, became delirious with joy. 

" It is the great-granddaughter of 
the Witch of Lut ! " he cried. " Look, 
Cholef ! It is our old friend from the 
Desert of Kordufeb ! " 

Then seizing a torch from the hands 
of a page, he darted forward and ap- 
plied the fire to the wood ; and soon 
there was a hissing and a crackling and 
a cracking, that told of bursting and 
65 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

burning boughs as the flames, envelop- 
ing the Witch, disappeared leapingly 
into the monstrous vault of the 
night. 

Beside himself with joy, King Ba 
danced with satyr-like movements 
around the pyre ; and very soon the 
feeling became contagious, for every 
one danced ; even the hermits, the friars, 
the father confessor, and Cholef de Coeur 
d'Or. Only Yverdel remained apart, 
sadly watching the flames. But, of a 
sudden, the dancers became immovable 
from terror; for the mouth of the 
Witch opened, and out of it slowly un- 
furled itself a long, unsubstantial Thing, 
the same Thing Yverdel had seen in the 
woods the night before. But now it 
suddenl}^ descended upon King Ba; it 
coiled about him and hid him from view, 
and bore him away, willj^-nilly, shriek- 

56 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

ing through the upper darkness. With 
white faces and knocking knees the 
revellers returned to the castle. As 
they staggered through the forest, no- 
body spoke except the fool, who nudged 
Cholef de Coeur d'Or with his elbow, and 
said : " I told you so ! " 

And thus once more the fool gave 

proof of his wisdom. 

***** 

Shortly after midnight, the Princess 
Eidole heard a strange noise at the foot 
of her bed. Withdrawing her head 
from underneath the sheets, she had a 
vision of her beloved father, dead, in 
the clutches of a fearful monster. For 
only a second she beheld him, then he 
seemed to vanish into the darkness, and 
the silence of the castle was shattered 
by her awful scream. 

When the old waiting-woman and the 
6T 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

blind harpist found her, she was lying 
unconscious on the rush-strewn floor; 
and though they lifted her tenderly and 
placed her in her bed, it soon became 
apparent that she must pass away. 
Staring before her, as moveless as a 
thing of marble, she lay there ; and it 
was with relief that the old couple heard 
the baying of the dogs below, welcoming 
the castle's inmates. 

When told of what had befallen his 
love, Yverdel was heart-broken. He 
flung himself beside her bed, calling her 
endearing names and telling her she had 
nothing to fear now that he was near. 
But it was all of no avail ; the dark eyes 
looked at him with a vacant stare; the 
proud, white lips would not return his 
kiss ; and the heart within her bosom 
fluttered as dispassionately as though 
it were the heart of a bird. 
68 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

And when the boy saw how hopeless 
it was, and how minute by minute she 
was passing away from him, he wept; 
and his tears warmed her cheek and 
brought to her lips some slight sugges- 
tion of color. Then she sighed, and with 
a frail white hand touched the wavy 
glory of his hair. It was a small act, 
but it heartened the unhappy boy. 

" I love you, Eidole ! " he whispered. 
" Speak once to me before you go." 

Then those around her little bed fell 
back, and the lover was left alone with 
her who lay there so quietly. And 
presently, after she had gazed at him, 
she touched his hair again. " I al- 
most understand," she whispered. " I 
shall know soon. The torches must be 
burning low, because it seems so dark. 
I — almost understand." 

But though the boy kissed her cheeks 

69 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

and lips, and told her the torches were 
burning brightly, she closed her eyes and 
remained silent. 

Toward dawn, while yet the sky was 
leaden-hued, a low wind arose and stirred 
the roses at the casement. The old 
woman, who had watched faithfully 
through the night, heard its moaning, 
and muttered as she closed the window: 
" It is the cradle-song of Death ! " 

The Princess Eidole heard it, too ; 
for suddenly she smiled. Her eyes 
brightened, and saying " I come ! " her 
head drooped against the shoulder of 
her lover, and ere he knew it she was 
dead. 

Along with masses of heliotrope and 

jasmine, she was placed in a casket of 

purest crystal, and left to slumber in 

a quiet grotto dedicated to the iris and 

60 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

the nightshade. Upon her breast lay 
the small black crucifix, the light of 
which was to guide her through the dark 
halls of Death, and lead her at last to 
where all souls are gathered. So white 
and pure she looked within her crystal 
casket that even Yverdel feared not to 
leave her there ; and when the grotto 
had been closed forever, and sealed, he 
returned to the little oratory and 
prayed. 

Looking wistfully into the face of the 
Madonna, wishing she would comfort 
him again, the tears began to drip down 
his cheeks as he thought of his great loss 
and the loneliness that must be his. But 
while he knelt there, the blind harpist 
groped his way to him, and hearing his 
sobs, told him that the swallows were 
singing of a beautiful soul they had seen 
journeying eastward to greet the dawn. 
61 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

Then the youth remembered that even 
now she might be watching him from tlie 
Porch of Paradise, so he lifted his arms 
to her and smiled; and then, with his 
hand in that of the old man, left the 
oratory and sought the ever-blessed 
sunshine. 

And this is THE LEGEND OF 
LOVE. 



.#"?^i 




G2 



Of The Legend of Love one 
hundred copies were originally 
printed in San Francisco in 
1893 for private distribution. 
Of this edition eighty-five 
were immediately destroyed. 



63 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




